Page 5 of Entangled with the Enemy

I try to play it cool, even as my heart races. "I suppose you'll have to ask Lilith to arrange it," I say with a teasing smile, stepping back and breaking the intense connection.

Holden's expression shifts to one of amused determination. "Alright, I'll do just that."

I turn and walk to my car, trying to steady my breathing and ignore the persistent flutter in my chest. As I slide into the driver's seat and start the engine, I glance in the rearview mirror. There he is, standing in the same spot, watching me drive away.

I can't help but notice the satisfied grin on his face as he pulls out his phone, already making the call.

Chapter 4

Holden

When the matchmaker told me she had a great idea for my next date with Imogen, I hadn't known what to expect. Being trapped in a room with her while we solve puzzles to escape... not what I had in mind, but it could be worse.

The escape room is small and dimly lit, decorated like a 1920s speakeasy with jazz music playing softly in the background.

"I think this symbol matches that clue over there," Imogen says, pointing across the room.

"You might be right," I say, moving closer to inspect the symbol she pointed out. "Let's see if we can unlock this box."

She hovers beside me, her body heat radiating in the confined space. "You're pretty good at this," she comments when the box pops open.

I chuckle, glancing at her. "I have my moments."

The air between us crackles with an electric charge as we work together on the puzzles. Imogen's brow furrows in concentration, and I can't help but admire the curve of her full lips as she bites down on the plump flesh.

"I think we're close," she murmurs, leaning over the table to examine a set of symbols.

My gaze drifts lower, drawn to the tantalizing swell of her breasts straining against the fabric of her blouse. I swallow hard, trying to focus, but she's a tempting distraction.

"You're staring," she teases, glancing up at me.

Caught, I flash her a wolfish grin. "Can you blame me? You're captivating."

She arches an eyebrow, but I don't miss the way her cheeks flush at my frank appraisal. "Eyes on the prize, Bowers. We've got work to do."

"Yes, ma'am," I say, turning my attention back to the puzzle.

Finally, with a triumphant cry, Imogen slots the last piece into place. The lock on the door clicks open with a resounding thud that seems to echo through the room.

"We did it!" she exclaims, her eyes alight with excitement as she turns toward me, flinging her arms around my neck.

That's all it takes for something to snap inside of me.

Desire surges through me, hot and insistent. Before I can think better of it, I reach behind her and pull the door closed again, the lock clicking into place with a resounding thud.

"What are you—" she begins, but I silence her with a searing kiss.

She melts against me with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as I back her up against the nearest wall. The rough brick scratches my palm as I brace my hand beside her head, caging her in with my body.

Imogen tastes like sin and salvation, her lips pliant and inviting as I plunder her mouth with deep, hungry strokes of my tongue. She gives as good as she gets, nipping at my lower lip, sending sparks of pleasure-pain ricocheting through my nerves.

Growling low in my throat, I tear my mouth from hers and trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along the slender column of her throat. She arches against me with a breathy whimper, her nails raking deliciously across my scalp.

"Holden..." She breathes my name, her voice husky.

I can't get enough of her—the taste of her skin, the curves of her body molded so perfectly against mine, the soft sounds of pleasure that spill from those lush lips. My hands roam freely, tracing the hourglass flare of her hips before drifting lower to knead the firm swell of her ass.

"You drive me crazy," I rasp against the sensitive hollow beneath her ear. "I can't get you out of my head."

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